So sorry that G devours vegetables at my house. S also eats rice when he's in our vicinity. I'm thinking that perhaps we can credit the bay breeze instead of my sister status or cooking prowess.
Yeah, I'm feeling confident that it's not my cooking prowess. Particularly these days when I churn out a pretty consistent rotation of sausage and beans, quesadillas and beans, stir-fry...and delivery pizzas. I'm not knocking these dishes (way to be bean-centric though, no?), just acknowledging that they hardly amount to recipes and that it's been a while since I've cooked in a way that's exciting to me. I am, you know, just getting back into baking. Having a baby seems to mean baby steps back into the kitchen as I've known it.
Right now, in a rare moment, I am eating WHILE I blog. Sure this means I'm not being a particularly present eater, but most importantly it means that I AM EATING WITH TWO HANDS.
This is so rare.
So, so, so rare.
John is an amazing partner. We take turns tending to M's needs while we eat. But the reality of it is that neither one of us eats with two hands for a whole meal with much regularity. In fact, absent grandparental visits and this one night a few months back when she was asleep during dinner, John and I have not eaten a single meal at home in which we were free to employ both of our hands for the duration. I wouldn't call this depressing, since it is simply the byproduct of the arrival of our incredibly wonderful baby, but I do want to mark this moment, to appreciate it for what it is: a dinner for me in which I am my only concern.
And, on that note, while I love the blog, I'm off to finish eating, to relish the two-handedness of this meal.